Page 29 of Sins of the Succubus

I can't help but grin, my lips curling back to reveal the sharp points of my teeth. "My, my," I growl, my voice resonating with the power of the Abyss. "You're quite the little murderess, aren't you?" The air around us crackles with the aftermath of her lethal display, and I find myself utterly enthralled by her burgeoning power.

Neela moans in response, her inner walls tightening around me as she rides the wave of her dark triumph. Her body moves with a newfound confidence, each motion a testament to the demoness she's become. "Only for those who deserve it," she says, her words punctuated by the wet sounds of our coupling. Her voice is a sultry whisper that fans the flames of my desire.

I chuckle, the sound vibrating through both of us, our bodies still entwined in the throes of passion. "Oh, I have no doubt of that," I tell her, my hands gripping her hips tightly, guiding her movements with a possessive force. "You've got a good head onyour shoulders... and a wickedness in your heart that matches my own."

The sensation of her body milking my cock is too much to bear, an exquisite torment that threatens to unravel my very essence. With a final, powerful thrust, I let out a roar, a primal sound that echoes through the room. My seed spills into her, a molten offering that binds us together in a dance of darkness and desire, a claiming that transcends the physical realm.

"Fuck, Neela," I gasp, my body shuddering with the force of my release, each pulse sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. "You're mine now. You understand that, don't you?" My words are a possessive growl, a statement of fact rather than a question.

She nods, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation, a hunger that mirrors my own. "I'd better be," she murmurs, her voice filled with a dark promise that sends a thrill through me. Her fingers trace the contours of my chest, claiming me as surely as I have claimed her.

In this moment, we are two halves of the same demented whole, bound by the shadows we've embraced and the power we wield. I am hers, just as she is mine, and together… we will wreak havoc.

18

DREMLOR

Istand amidst the chaos, the flames licking at the night sky as they consume the bar, turning it into a blazing pyre for the damned. Neela, her eyes aglow with the fire of her newfound power, turns to me, her expression one of determination and resolve.

"This place... it's been a prison for me, for so long," she says, her voice carrying over the roar of the flames. "But it's also been a prison for others. We can't just leave them here to suffer."

I nod, understanding her need to purge this place of its taint. "You're right," I tell her, my gaze sweeping over the remaining employees huddled together, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and hope.

Together, we approach the group of workers, their wide eyes taking us in—Neela, the newly minted succubus, and me, the demon who has claimed her. The air is thick with smoke and the stench of burning flesh, but beneath it all, there's a sense of release, of freedom being reclaimed.

Neela steps forward, her presence commanding attention. "Tell me about your lives," she commands, her voice resonating with authority. "What has this place done to you?"

One by one, they share their stories—tales of abuse, exploitation, and despair. Each account mirrors Neela's own, a testament to the cruelty that has been allowed to fester within these walls.

A young woman, her face streaked with soot and tears, speaks up. "I was sold to the bar by my own family," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. "They said it was for the greater good, that it would bring prosperity to our household. But all I've known here is pain and humiliation."

Neela reaches out, her hand gentle on the young woman's shoulder. "And what of you?" she asks, turning to an older man, his body stooped from years of hard labor.

"I've been a slave to this place for longer than I care to remember," he says, his voice hoarse. "I've watched generations come and go, each one suffering under the weight of the same chains that bind us all."

As the stories unfold, I can feel a growing sense of outrage. This bar, this cesspool of depravity, has been a blight upon the lives of these people, a cancer that has eaten away at their souls. But no more.

I listen intently as the employees recount their tales of woe, each one a testament to the suffering that has been allowed to fester within these walls. My gaze lingers on Neela, her expression a mask of empathy and determination. She's a beacon of hope in this darkened hell, and I can't help but feel a surge of pride for the demoness she's become.

A young woman, her face a portrait of anguish, steps forward. "My mother," she begins, her voice trembling, "she's been forced to... to service our landlord. If she doesn't... he threatens to foreclose on our home."

Neela's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint igniting within their depths. "And where is this landlord?" she asks, her tone icy.

The young woman hesitates, glancing at her feet. "He... he's at our home now. We live in the outskirts."

Neela turns to me, her gaze imploring. We share a nod, an unspoken agreement, and she insists the young woman show us to her home.

We arrive at the outskirts of the Shadow Woods, the young woman leading us to a modest dwelling that looks as if it's seen better days. The air is thick with tension as we approach, the sound of coarse laughter carrying from within the house.

Neela doesn't hesitate. She kicks the door open, the flimsy lock giving way with a satisfying crunch. Inside, we find the landlord, a bloated dark elf, his pants around his ankles, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he leers at the woman on her knees before him.

The young woman's mother looks up, her eyes wide with terror and shame. The landlord whirls around, his expression turning from lust to fear as he takes in the sight of Neela and me.

"What the—?" he stammers, scrambling to pull up his pants.

Neela steps forward, her wings unfurling behind her. "Your reign of terror ends now," she says, her voice echoing with the weight of her newfound power.

The landlord's eyes dart to the door, but I'm already there, my form blocking his only means of escape. "I don't think so," I growl, my voice a low rumble that makes the windows rattle.

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